


The Place Dreams Go To Die

by eerian_sadow



Series: chromatic vision 2011 [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, PTSD, post-military life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the moment he left Quatar, Fig's life took a steep downward spiral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discharge

**Author's Note:**

> written for chromaticvision's Oct. 2011 drabbleathon. these drabbles assume that Fig survived the end of the 2007 movie, rather than dying like he does in the novel and the comics.

Discharged.

Just like that, one word and some paperwork, and it was all over. Everything he’d ever hoped for--every point he’d ever made to every kid who beat him up for not being American enough, every dream he’d had of being a ranking officer like Lennox and having a good team behind him--was gone. He didn’t think he even knew how to be a civilian anymore.

He tried to console himself with the thought that he’d get to see his Mama soon and eat her cooking again. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have died out there.


	2. Scar Tissue

He wakes in the night to sharp, stinging aches along his side--pain the doctors said he shouldn’t be able to feel because the nerves should be gone. It doesn’t leave him most of the time, except when he’s drugged out of his mind on the painkillers and can’t feel anything anyway.

But it’s never the physical pain that wakes him.

He sees the desert when he closes his eyes. The terrorists that came before the helicopter and the scorpion and then the rage and pain as the scorpion took him down. That failure is the hardest part to live with.


	3. Recovery

Fig sat in his favorite chair on his mama’s back porch, watching the swamp. If he was quiet enough, and still enough, sometimes the gators would climb onto the bank where he could see them. It was illegal now, but he and his papa used to use the opportunity to shoot one for meat when he was younger.

Now he wasn’t sure his hand would ever be steady enough to shoot again.

“You know, these damn mosquitoes are going to eat you alive.” He jumped at his CO’s voice. “Your mom sent me out. Thought you could use some company.”


End file.
